A Blind Date From Hell
by pink fluff
Summary: Hermione grudgingly agrees to go on a blind date with a friend of a friend as a favor. she knew this was a bad idea...turns out she was right.[very light comedy hehe].


Hello again all! Yes, yes, I know I shouldn't be starting a new story but I couldn't help it :P Well I guess you can say this is my way of apologizing for such long delays for my other stories. This ficlet's kinda long but it would've been longer coz I just wanted to make a light, comedic one-shot. Now I MAY write another installment depending on whether or not ppl actually like it. We'll just havta wait and see. But for the time being, I'm gonna go ahead and say this is a one-shot. Btw, this is a DHr...but don't you fret HHr shippers! I'm in the process of writing one especially for you...probably a sequal to 'My Best Friend's Wedding'. No promises as of yet.  
Well enough chitty-chatty, enjoy!

Disclaimer: ok, I'm not J.K. Rowling...but I DO know her mom's second cousin's daughter's friend's former roommate. Then again maybe I don't...

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A Blind Date From Hell

* * *

"I can't believe you dragged me into this." 

She cautiously licked her lips in anticipation and tugged on the corners of her skirt in attempts to make them longer. She was in too foul a mood to go anywhere, let alone be out on a date this particular night. She glared at the person beside her, at Ron, who stood there grinning to the entire room from ear to ear. It almost made her want to slap that stupid smile off his face. If she was unhappy, she wanted him to feel it too. But at last she restrained herself from doing so.

Ron had begun walking through the restaurant to their instructed seats but stopped abruptly upon realizing Hermione was not following suite. He turned around to find her feet glued by the door, arms crossed and scowling. He huffed.

"Oh don't be such a baby. You haven't been out in ages. You need this."

She twisted her face in retort. "But a blind date? Ron, you know how demeaning I think that whole concept is."

And that's when he started pouting. "Aw c'mon Mione! I've been waiting for this date for a long time…and the only reason she agreed to meet me is coz I said I had a friend for her friend."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ugh! I can just imagine the desperate specimen she brought for me," she replied sarcastically.

But Ron just smiled, being thick enough not to catch the sarcasm in her voice. "Now that's the spirit," he answered, proceeding to lead them to their table. She sighed in frustration, but followed him anyway, making sure to stomp her feet as she went.

Both sat in patience across from each other. But they didn't have to wait for long because soon enough, Ron's date appeared through the entrance, smiling, tall, and blonde. Hermione squinted her eyes.

Her white-blonde hair was straight, flowing a little bit past her shoulders. She was a slim woman, her pale skin and cream-colored eyes greatly contrasting her ruby red lips which were twisted into a playful smile. And though her face was pointed, Hermione can see what the attraction was. This woman was quite beautiful in her own way. She carried an air of confidence around her (or was that overconfidence?) that almost forced everyone in the room to look in her direction. Even her skin had a natural glow, seeming to make the time slow down and the cigarette smoke in the restaurant dissipate to nothing as she walked to where Ron and Hermione sat.

Ron stood up to meet her, wrapping his arms around her thin waist as he kissed her cheek amorously.

"Daphne, you look gorgeous."

Hermione stood up as well, out of courtesy of course, and regarded the new company. She felt plain and ordinary just standing next to her, wearing an average knee length skirt and a simple lavender button-down blouse. At that moment, Hermione somehow knew that this 'friend' of Daphne's was cut from the same cloth; he was going to be some runway model wannabe whose pedicure is probably more expensive than her blouse alone. Ugh. It's going to be a long night.

"Thanks sweetie," Daphne answered before giving Hermione a once-over. "Well, look what you brought," she directed to Ron while eyes still scanning over the curly-haired brunette. "Hmm, she's cute. She'll do."

Hermione silently fumed, her tongue pushing against the walls of her teeth. How _dare_ she speak as if she couldn't hear them! The nerve. But she managed to push that aside.

"And what did _you_ bring?" Hermione asked back, plastering the sweetest fake smile she could possible.

Daphne giggled. "He's just checking our coats, dahling. He'll be in soon." She spun around to face her date again. "I need to check my makeup for a quick second but in the meantime, Ronald, could you order a Wine Spritzer for me and Rum and Coke for Draco?"

Ron nodded dully and sat back down, with Hermione doing the same. As soon as she had gone, Hermione scoffed.

Ron raised a brow at this. "What?"

"You let her call you Ronald."

"So?"

"So…you hate it when everyone else calls you that."

He just shrugged. "I like the way she says it."

Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes. "And this 'friend' of hers…what did she say his name was? Dra-"

Hermione paused, realization slamming into her face like a brick. It seemed as if the same idea dawned on Ron that very moment as well, like neither of them really heard Daphne before until the name echoed soundly in their ears.

"Dra—Draco? As in, Draco Malfoy? Is that what she said? Please tell me that's not what she said."

"That's what she said," he answered quietly, afraid to maintain eye contact.

"RON! You have me on a bloody date with Draco sodding Malfoy!" By the time she'd finished her sentence, she had reached up across the table and grasped the edges of his collar, blue eyes looking up terrified into dark shadowy brown ones almost wanting to commit homocide.

"You knew didn't you?" she accused. "You knew she was bringing Malfoy!"

Ron blinked hard and shook his head fervently, whispering continuous "no's".

"Mione I swear. I didn't know." He had his hands up in an act of surrender. But as she was about to open her mouth to unleash more verbal attack, she realized eyes were upon her. And not just that of Ron's or the current customers occupying the tables around them, but a new pair of eyes. Hermione could feel them on her back.

Slowly she released Ron's neck from her claw-like grip and turned around to face the owner of those slate grey eyes, staring with as much shock and surprise.

……….

Hermione had her head tilted to one side, fiddling mindlessly with her hair, which was a lot easier considering her slouched position on her chair. Every now and then she'd catch her 'date' glancing up towards her at the same time she'd be glancing at him. And when that happened, she'd rudely sneer at him. After the fourth time, Ron nudged her roughly in the ribs, mouthing out "stop it".

But Daphne was quite oblivious to the whole tension between them, and instead was more taken with Ron who was sitting across from her.

"So," she started, flipping her flimsy hair over her thin shoulder. "How do you lot know my delightfully charming cousin?" She batted her eyes tauntingly at Draco who sat next to her. His head was hung, like he was bored out of his mind, but when he raised his eyes to look at the people around him, his face was stone and expressionless.

It was clear Hermione wasn't eager to answer this one so Ron did it for her. He cleared his throat. "Ahem. He, um, went to school with us."

Daphne gasped and squealed in delight. "Is that so? How adorable!" She turned back to her cousin. "You never told me you knew Ron."

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his chair, silently grinding his teeth. "I wasn't aware it was the same one," he answered quietly, staring at the tablecloth.

Dinner continued on awkwardly between the three Hogwarts alumni, every once in a while Draco kicking Weasley under the table as Ron had mistaken his feet for Daphne's, and was unknowingly playing footsies with the wrong Malfoy. Daphne, however, was unaware of the growing discomfort settling around her, as she continued on flirting and giggling mercilessly at Ron's jokes, no matter how pathetically sad and un-funny there really were.

Hermione rolled her eyes and mentally gagged at the same time Draco looked up and regarded her observantly. She cleared her throat subtly and straightened in her seat. Had he caught her childishly making faces in his direction?

'_Damn it!'_

She quickly screwed up her face to pretend she was trying to pick food out of her teeth with her tongue.

As the meal dragged on, Hermione could only take so much. She nor Draco hadn't spoken a word since they arrived, talking only when spoken to directly and keeping their words blunt and to a bare minimum. But she felt tormented and strangled, annoyed with the way Draco silently nagged her. This was absolute torture! Malfoy had actually found ways to instigate her without verbal communication, which could be far worse and far more irritating. Hermione was at the point of scratching her steak knife on her dinner plate just to let off steam.

And that's when Ron nudged her.

She looked up warily, her icy stare indicating her still angry state towards him.

He nodded his head to the side, communicating that he wanted to speak to her in private. Ron excused themselves from the table.

"Hermione, I just wanted to say thanks. I think me and Daphne are really hitting it off and it wouldn't have happened if it weren't for you," Ron whispered. It was clear to Hermione just how sickeningly happy he was. But at her expense? She made a mental note to get him back good someday.

She scoffed. "Yea, whatever Ron. Happy to do it," she replied sarcastically.

"Yea, uh…actually we're gonna be going soon."

Hermione stared at him suspiciously and crossed her arms over her chest. "I hope you mean 'me and you' we," she drawled out slowly.

"Well…" Ron gazed guiltily down at his shoes.

"Ronald!" Hermione hissed through gritted teeth. "You are _not_ leaving me with that smiley, slimy git. No way, no how, not happening." She shook her head for emphasis.

"But Mione!" he began in his whiny voice. "She said she wanted to slather things on me. I'm not even 100 percent certain what slathering is but I know I want to be a part of it."

At the same time, both of them looked back at the table to see Daphne licking thick chocolate pudding off a spoon while she winked suggestively at Ron.

Ron's eyes widened and his cheeks flushed. "Sorry Mione but I'm leaving."

"No wait, Ron." She pulled on his arm desperately.

He sighed. "Look, I'm real sorry for abandoning you…with Malfoy of all people." He fished through his pockets. "Here's my Gringotts key," he said, dropping the key in her palm. "Dinner is on me alright? Order whatever you please."

With that said, he left the restaurant with Daphne.

Hermione locked her jaw, staring agape as her redheaded friend walked out guiltlessly following the slim blonde.

'_Traitor!'_ she thought to herself. Her eyes narrowed to slits as they traveled back to the table; back to where Draco sat wordlessly, watching her.

'_Stupid git is probably judging me.'_

She dragged her feet all the way back to the table, like she would if she were walking the green mile. She heaved a heavy sigh as she dropped herself down on her chair with a thunk. Draco stared at her but as much as she tried to look away and ignore him, she couldn't help but notice.

"So…" Hermione started slowly, unable to take the silence much longer.

"So…" he responded back, seemingly distracted and uninterested in making effort in a conversation whatsoever.

"Some friends we have, huh?" she tried to smile making light of the situation. But the truth was that she was so tense with anger, she could've shattered the table to pieces with a bang of her head.

He coughed loudly, obviously forced, but other than that, he pretty much refused to acknowledge her. He wouldn't even look up anymore.

Hermione fumed. "Still that same twitchy little ferret, aren't you Malfoy?"

This seemed to catch his attention. His eyes snapped up, though they were still as expressionless as ever. He shook his head, never allowing her to break him.

"Grow up Granger," he muttered under his breath while fixing to sit himself up straight.

"_You_ grow up!" she retorted back automatically.

He smirked, and she realized she just proved him correct. Her eyes widened as she mentally slapped herself. She decided to change her approach.

"So Malfoy, why are you here anyway? Don't tell me this is the only way you can get women to go out with you. Using family members to arrange you blind dates. For shame." She smiled sweetly.

Draco remained unaffected. _'Clever,'_ he thought. _'Very clever.'_

"No actually. Daphne insisted I go out for the night."

"What's a matter? Your social life running a little dry?" she inquired with sarcasm.

He eyed her carefully. "You could say that. I just haven't been interested in the night life lately."

Both fell silent for a moment. "What about you Granger? Your boyfriend not jealous you're out on a date?"

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"Pity." He purposely failed at hiding his know-it-all smirk. She glared at him.

"For your information, _Malfoy_, I had a boyfriend. We just both mutually decided we were better off-"

"I'm sorry Granger. I must've given you the impression that I cared," he simply stated, cutting her off.

She bit her bottom lip in anger, mostly from embarrassment, as she turned away. Another wave of silence. This time, Hermione noticed something she was surprised she hadn't caught on before. From her peripheral vision she could see Draco taking out a prescription bottle, shaking it several times before opening the lid to pop a pill in his mouth. Surprised, as she had just realized he's been doing that all evening, the 'clinking' noise the pills made when it collided along the inner walls of the bottle. How did it not catch her attention before?

"What's that?" she asked casually.

Draco looked up, just having swallowed a pill, then back down at the prescription bottle in his hands, the container still open.

"Is it drugs?"

Draco's jaw tightened in a scowl. "Explain to me how that's any of your business."

Hermione closed her mouth and rubbed her temples with her two fingers. Malfoy was positively driving her up the wall! Here she was, trying to make civilized conversation and all he was doing was biting back. No fair!

"Why must you be so difficult!" she drawled angrily. "I am trying to be nice here and you aren't even making the effort. Do you want me to leave? Is that what you want? You want me to leave you alone?"

He shook his head, amused. "Calm yourself Granger. You're in public," he said nonchalantly, like he was speaking to a child on the brink of tantrum. But Hermione was already halfway through her ranting.

"This is the worst night of my life! Not only did my best friend abandon me, but he set me up on a blind date with you! And all because that _prat_ had hormonal needs to be taken care of by some blonde bird. I swear, the next time I see Ron, I'm going to dismember him myself…and I'll make sure to remove something he'll miss."

Draco chuckled lightly, at the fire glowing in her eyes. "Funny how we finally agree on something. Weasley always did strike me as a man who only thought with his stomach or his…well, you know."

Suddenly, something clicked in Hermione's head, as she twirled a certain brass key in her hand. A slow sadistic smile spread across her face. "A horny bastard he may be, but also a very stupid one."

Draco looked at her questioningly.

"What do you say we order the finest, most expensive champagne in the house?" She slammed down the Gringotts key on the table as she said this, that mischievous glint finding its way back to her eye.

Draco glanced at the key and smirked, catching on to her meaning. "Why get one when we can have two?"

"Even better! One for each." She looked around the restaurant. "Excuse me, waiter! We'd like to have 2…no, 4—maybe we should each take one home too, eh Malfoy?—of you're best champagne please."

As the crystal glasses came and the drinks flowed, Hermione and Draco made a toast to one hell of a vengeful evening, one that was to end with a blur and an erratically nauseating headache.

------------

Sunday morning.

The sun was shining, birds were singing, and Hermione Granger was having the most horrible case of hangover. She groaned, quickly drawing her head back under the covers to hide from the beaming morning sun.

"Bloody sunlight," she mumbled angrily. She moved to stretch her muscles but found some parts of her body to be numb. "Ugh…" Grumbling, she felt the strangest sensation: the touch of wool on her bare skin. Odd. Her customary flannel pajamas were soft and 100 percent cotton.

Finally she cracked open one eye. She started with a jump, realizing she was completely naked. However, what was more surprising was she wasn't all that shocked. Like she half-expected it already.

Hermione sat up, rubbing her head in the process, and wrapped her woolen sheets tightly around her chest. She was in her own room, in her apartment. That was a good sign.

Last night…with who had she spent the night with?

She heard something; the floorboards creaking under someone's footsteps coming down the hallway, accompanied by rattling items…perhaps glass against steel, or something else breakable maybe.

She stared at the open door of the bedroom as Malfoy came in, holding a tray of food: pancakes, fruit, eggs, bacon, toast, and two mugs, one of which contained coffee and the other, tea. But Hermione wasn't staring at the plate which made the clanging noise against the mugs as he walked. No, she barely noticed that. She was more distracted with Malfoy himself.

He came in shirtless.

Now she could understand why so many women throw themselves aimlessly at this man. He was a sight for sore eyes. Biceps, pecks, abs, ripples…you name it, they were all there. Any woman could see his body was made for two things: quidditch and sex. And the only thing keeping Hermione's imagination running wild was the black and white boxer shorts he wore which ran about more than halfway down his thigh. To top it all off, his silky smooth hair which was always known for being neat, tidy, and slicked back was an unruly mess on top of his head. He was gorgeous.

"Good morning," he greeted her civilly, sitting on the edge of the bed as he laid the tray next to him. "I wasn't sure what you liked so I made everything." He picked up the two mugs. "Coffee or tea?"

She motioned for the blue mug, black coffee as its contents. He handed the mug to her and smirked.

"I thought you'd be the caffeine type of person," he stated, setting the other mug back down.

She simply sat there for several minutes, sipping her coffee in silence. Finally she rested it down on her lap.

"What happened last night?" Her voice was a lot calmer than she expected. One would assume she'd be screaming her head off by now.

Draco snapped his head up. "You don't remember?"

She shook her head slowly.

He smiled playfully to himself. "You really _are_ a lightweight," he murmured under his breath, but she overheard.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she inquired testily.

"It means you can't handle a lot of alcohol intake," he explained as if she was slow.

She squinted her eyes dangerously. "What happened last night Malfoy?" she repeated.

He shrugged. "We had some drinks and talked."

"And…"

Draco frowned in question. "And what?"

"And then what happened?"

"Not much."

Hermione was beginning to get angry. It showed on her face. He scoffed at her reaction.

"What do you want me to tell you Granger? That you slept with me?" His face showed no traces of humor or a hint of a smile.

This just set her off even more. "I want you to tell me the truth."

Draco was shaking his head at her. He couldn't believe she was being so childish. Annoyed and irritated, he snatched his pants from the floor and shoved them on.

"I get it. I get it Granger," he said huffily, closing the zipper of his pants. "Go on and think whatever you want about me. I don't care." He found his shirt on the foot of the bed and pulled it over his head.

"Oh my opinions of you are far more worse than you could ever imagine Malfoy."

He paused, gazing at her indignantly, and sighed. "I was _not_ trying to get in your pants _Granger_. I know that's what you're thinking."

"Well, guess what? You did…and you were."

Draco's mouth was a thin line, his anger silent and calm, like the air in the eye of a storm. Then it exploded.

"You Gryffindors are a lot more prejudice than you let on to be. Just coz I was a Slytherin doesn't give you the right to criticize me. And as far as me 'taking advantage of you while you were drunk', newsflash Bookworm: it never happened. In fact, you were the one coming on me. You know, you have a rather high opinion of yourself…thinking every man has the intention of going after you." He paused, allowing time for his words to sink into her brain. "Not a recommendable notion, don't you think?"

He left the room then, fully clothed, and leaving Hermione stunned and agape at his words. Draco was reaching for the doorknob of the front door when it automatically opened before him and in stepped Ron. Both men looked at each other awkwardly before Draco steered around him.

"Weasley," he greeted him curtly.

"Malfoy," Ron answered in that same monotone. Ron was staring after the blond in confusion as he proceeded to walk into Hermione's room. He scratched his head.

"Did—um—did he spend the night? Here?"

Hermione nodded slowly, pulling on a robe from the side of the bed.

"Don't say it Ron. Just don't say it." She hurriedly said before he had a chance to get in a word.

Ron merely glanced at her and spied the breakfast food sitting on the bed. "Ooh, is that buttermilk pancakes?" He smiled excitedly like a child on Christmas morning, jumping onto the sheets and popping a piece of fruit in his mouth. As he chewed, he was already halfway through cutting the pancakes.

Hermione whirled to face him in surprise. "What, that's it? No yelling, no whining, no screaming accusations and warnings of the dangers I'm possibly getting myself into by spending time with Malfoy in that high-pitched voice of yours?" she asked incredulously. But Ron apparently wasn't even listening.

"Hey this bacon is pretty crispy. I had no idea you knew how to cook." He crunched a bite into the piece of meat.

"Ron! Are you even listening to me!" She crossed her arms and walked around the bed. "And for your information, I didn't cook that. The _Amazing Bouncing Ferret_ did," Hermione retorted with utmost sarcasm.

The redhead nodded in approval. "Not bad. You should date him just for his cooking alone. Could be useful you know." He took a big sip of the tea, recoiling slightly after burning his tongue.

"Date him? Who said I was dating him?"

Ron shrugged dumbly. "Well, weren't you two…canoodling?"

She roughly smacked the back of his head. "I never have, nor ever will, 'canoodle' with that devil," she barked, making quotation mark gestures with her hands. "I hate Draco. It makes me sick just saying his name." She shuddered visibly.

Ron was rubbing the back of his head numbly. "Um, Mione? You just did."

"Did what?"

"Called him Draco."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did."

"No, I didn't," Hermione repeated, a little more impatient.

"Yea you did. You called him by his first name: Draco."

"Ronald, I think I'd know if I _had_ called him by his first name…which I didn't." She paused, perhaps realizing herself that the name _had_ slipped out of her mouth…accidentally of course. "Anyway that's not the point," she recovered quickly. "I still hate him and his entire existence." She plopped back down again on the bed beside Ron.

"What's wrong with you Ron? Why aren't you overreacting after finding your worst enemy here with me like you would normally act?"

"I guess I'm just too happy to care right now. I had a great time with Daphne last night." His eyes were glazed over and his cheeks were burning pink. "I _really_ like slathering."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh and by the way Mione, I hope you enjoyed dinner last night coz it's the last time I'm ever paying," he jokingly glared at her as he snatched his Gringotts key from the top of her dresser. But Hermione just gave him an innocent smile.

As Ron made his way out of her bedroom, she caught sight of a brown leather belt sitting on the floor…it was a man's belt. She smacked a palm to her forehead and sighed out loud in frustration.

"Oh heavens…"

…………

'_Why, oh why did I come here?'_ Hermione asked herself as she brought up a hand to knock on the door. _'He's not gonna welcome me in. Not after I yelled at him this morning.'_ She turned around to leave the way she came, down the corridor and to the lifts. _'No,'_ she told herself. _'I came here for a reason and I'm gonna do it.'_ She whirled around again to walk back to his door. _'This is stupid. He's just gonna spit in my face…if I'm lucky that is.'_ Again, she headed for the lift. _'Don't be such a wuss Hermione. Just get it over with.'_ Again, she turned around.

In the middle of her argument with herself whether to leave or not, the door cracked open. No one stood in front of his door so he stuck his head out in the corridor.

"Granger?" he called out. Hermione looked up.

"Oh, um…hey Malfoy." She stiffly stepped closer to his apartment until she stood directly in front of him.

"What are you doing here?" He stared at her, studying her face, which made her even more tense and uncomfortable.

"I—uh—brought this." She held up his brown belt. "You left it at my place when you stormed out."

He took the belt in his hand and examined it. "You came here for a belt?" Draco frowned and shook his head at her, retreating back into his flat.

Hermione gritted her teeth and followed him inside, feeling very taken back and offended. "A simple 'thank you' would have been nice."

He sighed, pivoting around to face her. "Yea it would be if I were a nice person—why don't you tell me why you're really here?"

She ran a hand through her mane, subconsciously playing with the curls. "Look. I just wanted to…" she closed her eyes, struggling to say the word. "…a-…apo-…apologize," she finally croaked out. "For being…"

"Narrow-minded? prejudice? judgemental?" he offered.

Looking up, she glared at him. "I was _going_ for the word _wrong_."

Draco shrugged. "Same thing."

She scowled. "Anyway, you didn't have to be so goddamn sensitive. Just coz I hurt your feelings-"

"Whoa, whoa." He stopped her with a wave of his hand, having heard enough. "First off, the only person here being overly sensitive is you. Second, you didn't hurt anybody's feelings, least of all mine. So, for the first time in your life, just shut that face hole of yours Granger coz you know nothing about me."

"Oh, no?" she challenged, brows raised. "So you mean to tell me that you're not some spoiled brat raised to be just as evil as his father, willing to live the rich life and mannerisms of a Death Eater, aimlessly tossing your money around as if it-" she stopped short, realizing for the first time that she was standing in the middle of a small flat: Draco's flat. But Draco's rich, so why isn't he living in his large manor? Or at least an equally expensive suite. He must've read those exact thoughts by the look on her face.

"The money's gone Granger," he said calmly. "Most of it went off to pay for all my father's war crimes and his 'debt to society', as Skeeter puts it."

"What about the rest of it?"

"My ex-wife."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Ex-wife? I didn't even know you were married."

"Yea well, she took me for everything I was worth after the divorce."

"I- I'm sorry. I had no idea," she stuttered, embarrassed.

"Yea of course you didn't." The extent of his sarcasm hadn't passed her. The embarrassment suddenly washed away to be replaced by anger.

"Don't you dare get all self-righteous with me Malfoy," her hands rested on her hips. "Coz I'm sure you have some false assumptions about me as well. Go on, why don't you tell me something you know about me."

Draco was about to open his mouth when Hermione pointed a finger at him in warning. "And no, my lineage or bloodline does not count."

He raised a brow.

"Fine."

He was silent for a good couple of seconds. "You are a workaholic." Hermione rolled her eyes, as if to say 'duh!' "Okay…you don't care much for appearances because you think they're superficial and false. That's why you don't where makeup, fancy clothes, or even fix your hair up once in awhile. You take showers not baths. Apparently, you're too busy and important to take the time and luxury a bath offers."

Draco was walking around her as he analyzed her.

"You're a romantic at heart. But you're afraid to show it. Hell, even Potter nor Weasley knows it. You like to read, especially romance novels. But you're too shy to let anyone else know you like them. So you hide it. And you hide from relationships, all because you're afraid of love. You are so accustomed to always being in control that the prospect of love scares you coz you don't know how to deal with vulnerability and being powerless against someone you care about. You're terrified of being rejected and alone, and you know I'm right."

By now, he was only several inches from her face, his eyes boring into hers almost straight to her soul. She stared, agape, trying to formulate a coherent sentence—an insult, perhaps—as her mind traced over his words. The fact that she had trouble doing so was maybe coz he'd hit a little too close to home. Now she felt like a deer, blinking stupidly under a shining light.

"Uh-" was all she managed to croak out, the dryness of her mouth startling her. _'Shit!'_

Suddenly, a smirk broke out over Draco's features, and Hermione knew she'd been played for a fool. Her hands balled into fists.

"Now if you don't mind, _Her-my-oh-knee_," he carefully drawled out her name which infuriated her to no end, and held the door wide open, gesturing outside. "I have to leave for work in 10 minutes, so I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

She strode over confidently, holding whatever dignity she had left, and looked him straight in the eye. "I'd be happy to." She stepped outside and whipped around for a last-second tongue lashing. "And for your information, you are dead _wrong_ about me-"

Hermione was cut off by the slamming of the door in her face. But it wasn't a 'vengeful-angry' slam. It was more of a 'slap-to-her-ego' slam. That just added fuel to her fire. Gritting her teeth, she stomped all the way to the lifts, muttering the foulest curses imaginable, and punched the button on the elevator. As the doors slid closed, she let out a drum-ringing scream to release her balled-up rage.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Well, what'd u guys think? Good? Bad? Maybe sad? lol. well I'd like to hear opinions whether positive or negative. I don't take a lot of things seriously so say whatever u want. Again, for now this is only a one-shot unless I actually get good feedback, or else I'd probably see it as unnecessary to update. And regarding my other stories I say, fret not! I will still continue them and update when my creative energy comes back to me :) Thanks for taking time to read my little blurb!

-P!Nk FluFF


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